[piosenniel]

Berilac and the children at the Hedge

‘Boys always stick together, don’t they?’ Marigold Woodruff had stepped back from the ever smaller hole they had been working on for the past hour. It was her and Ella’s turn to hand the branches and pieces of scrap lumber to the boys, Mondy and Rollo. Early on, the boys had decided that they would be one team and the girls would be another. They would take turns – one team going into the hole to stuff it up with the materials; the other team feeding the materials to them.

Truth be told, Marigold enjoyed working with Ella. Marigold’s mother kept her close to home usually, and she hadn’t a chance to meet the Hobbits from the other side of the village. School and now this little project with the Ranger had widened her circle of acquaintances and hopefully friends.

Ella dragged the last of the branches to where the boys were standing just outside the now filled in hole. All four of the children laced it through the edges of the Hedge together.

‘We’re done!’ cried Mondy to Rollo, slapping the boy on the back. Rollo yelped in surprise and laughed out loud. ‘You pack a pretty good wallop for a . . .’

Berilac’s attention was drawn to the little group. Things had been going so well and he hoped that some ill thought words were not going to mar the day. He watched as Mondy stood in front of the boy, hands on hips, daring him to just say the word. Ella and Marigold also held their breath.

Rollo, unaware of the attention focused on him, laughed and gave Mondy a light push on the shoulder. ‘I say you’ve got a pretty good arm there for an eight year old!’

The boys’ attention was drawn to a small tree frog that clung to a small twig on the hedge. Rollo’s face lit up as one of his old jokes came to mind. ‘Hey, have you heard this one?’ he said to the little group, pointing out the frog. ‘Why did the frog cross the road?’

Ella and Marigold rolled their eyes at the old riddle. Mondy had never heard it before and scrunched his face up thinking about the answer. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve almost got it . . .’ He tried out a few answers and was rewarded with shakes of the head from Rollo and giggles from the girls. When at last he gave up and Rollo gave the answer, his face clouded over for a moment then lightened with understanding. Slapping rollo on the back once more, he cried ‘Good one!’ Then, looking up hopefully at the older lad, asked, ‘Got any more?’

Berilac grinned at the crisis averted. Now if only the parents could get along so well!